


Feelings I can't deal with

by spicytrianglefromouterspace (orphan_account)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bullying, Depression, Gen, Heavy Angst, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, One Shot, POV Original Character, Short, Short One Shot, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7423717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/spicytrianglefromouterspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't know what it is but it is sad. Character is of course dealing with depression and other mental health issues. Please don't read if you are triggered by anything that I tagged!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feelings I can't deal with

 Look, I really appreciate people being all positive and telling suicidal people that it

 

 _will be_ alright

and they

 _can_ make it

and you

 _will_ miss out on _so much_

_______________

And yes, I think it is true; but I just _can’t take it_. I didn’t add "anymore” because I was never able to take it. But somehow I still survived. I know, I know, there’s always someone who has it worse than me but it feels _so fucking bad_ , this inner sadness, this hopelessness, this loneliness, the nagging feeling you did everything in the world wrong that could go wrong-

 

_______________

 

Lately I’ve been able to cry again which usually is a good sign, _at least for me_.

But boy, do I cry much. The crying gets more and more intense every time I let it all out.

I’ve been doing _so well_ one or two weeks ago. I felt like it’s going to be okay, people care about me and I _might_ be worth it.

But; of course; it came all back again and hit me harder than ever. Or I’m just imagining it being worse than it actually is because I got _so_

_fucking weak_

 

  
I’m like a leaf in the wind; the slightest blast of air carries me to a new place I’ve never been to before.

Or something less gracile, a plastic bag. 

A new kind of sadness, a new feeling of loneliness and hatred so _bad_  

that I feel like I’m about to throw up and _cry_ and _cry_

and never stop and eventually just stop to breathe

to fall into the eternal sleep I’ve wished for so many times as a kid.

 

 

The reason I never killed myself is that I didn’t want to die in such an ugly way.

Defeated by the teenagers that taught me the feeling of self-hate and worthlessness,

by teachers that couldn’t care less if i lay beaten up on the bathroom’s floor,

by people I trusted and saw a healthy relationship with, and worst of all,

by _me_.

 

Briefly speaking it would be _pathetic_.

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh I have no clue how to end this, please forgive me.
> 
> I appreciate comments in which one might tell me if the way I use words is appealing or not. Thank you for reading!


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